


The Pure Conversation

by forever_bright



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dubious Consent, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-02
Updated: 2011-08-02
Packaged: 2017-10-22 03:20:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/233177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forever_bright/pseuds/forever_bright
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel offers Dean forgiveness and Dean has no idea what to do with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Pure Conversation

**Author's Note:**

> The warnings for underage and dub-con only apply to about one sentence. Set in season 4. Unbeta'd.

‘I know, Dean,’ murmured Castiel, unnervingly steady eyes resting on the hunter’s tense form. Dean, who had just concluded one of his infuriated, despairing rants, raised his head with a look of mocking amusement. The dingy hotel lights reflected in his eyes, the same lights framed Castiel in shallow illumination.

‘What do you know, eh, Cas? How to make a killer ballon puppy or just how to stand there and look at me and not do a God damn _thing_ to help? I don’t really care about what you know right now.’

Castiel, unaffected, did not alter his gaze; Dean was unable to look at those clear blue eyes, so dropped his head to stare at the floor. As he sat on the bed, he tightly gripped the gun resting on his knee, taking some familiar comfort in the solid metal. Castiel stood back, watching, as though observing a hurt child.

‘Heaven sees everything, Dean, and I _know_. I have watched you over many years.’

‘Now, that’s kinky; never picked you as the voyeuristic type. Do you watch me in the shower, too?’

The comment didn’t receive a reply. It was Dean’s automatic defence; make Cas uncomfortable and maybe the angel wouldn’t see that his fingers were white on the gun. Castiel continued, voice low and rough, but never wavering.

‘I saw what you did to survive. The stealing, the lying. The fights. I saw what you did in dark bars, on your knees, praying that Sam would never find out.’

Visibly swallowing, Dean didn’t reply. He got more tense, muscles strained under his shirt. He hoped the silence would push Castiel away, but the angel only exhaled softly.

‘I heard your prayers, Dean. I was listening.’

‘You weren’t,’ growled Dean, raising his head again, silence forgotton. He glared at Castiel ferociously, pulling himself off the bed, standing in front of the angel with physical rage rippling through him. ‘You have no damn clue what you’re saying.’

‘I saw it,’ murmured Castiel, eyes steady. He didn’t flinch as Dean’s arm shifted.

‘You know nothing,’ says Dean, his eyes now meeting Castiel’s challengingly, ignoring the anxiety creeping over him, ‘I would never-’

‘But you did, Dean. I saw it.’

The oldest Winchester clenched his jaw tightly, unable to speak due to anger and emerging panic. Castiel watched as Dean’s breathing got heavy, erratic and then he reached out, with deliberate care, resting a hand on Dean’s rough cheek. The man froze, instinctual fear etched on his face as Castiel’s fingers touched his skin.

‘I know everything you have done. All your darkest sins, Dean,’ said Castiel, staring at Dean, making sure he understood. ‘Heaven knows. And I still saved you . I gripped you and dragged up from Hell.’

Dean’s eyes had widened, as though he was beginning to realise what Castiel meant and it terrified him.

‘We decided you were worth saving, Dean Winchester. You are forgiven.’

‘Cas-‘ stuttered Dean, trying to force out a sentence when Castiel’s gaze was overpowering him. ‘Cas, you-’

Then he fell into silence, abandoning the words. Castiel’s hand still rested on his cheek and the fingers were warm, strong and Dean felt weak under them.

‘You are forgiven,’ whispered Castiel and his lips quirked in a genuine smile, as though attempting to reassure Dean. Dean, unable to absorb the meaning - the impact - of those words, closed his eyes. When he opened them, Castiel was gone. He was standing under the dodgy motel lights in an empty room, his body flooded with adrenaline and the feeling of Castiel’s fingers. He let out a long, shuddering breath. Then he lowered himself onto the bed and wondered, dazedly, whether he was imagining the lightness inside him. He wondered if this was why people believed in angels.


End file.
